


Day 1: Trust

by Kishirokitsune



Series: Pidge Ship Week 2017 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Pidge | Katie Holt, Alternate Universe, F/M, Galra Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 01:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kishirokitsune/pseuds/Kishirokitsune
Summary: After spending weeks as a prisoner on a Galra ship, Pidge finds herself being rescued by the most unlikely of people.





	Day 1: Trust

**Author's Note:**

> For Pidge Ship Week 2017, over on tumblr.  
> I'll admit, this first one got a little lengthy on me. The rest are going to be shorter, mostly due to lack of time.

Pidge still wasn't sure how things had gone so awry on her mission. She and her team had planned everything out, down to the last detail. And even if things did start to go sideways, she could think fast enough to make it through.

Or so she thought.

The door slid open with a noisy hiss and Pidge scrambled to press her back against the wall. Her face morphed into an angry scowl as she defiantly met the eyes of one of her jailers. Nothing good ever came of one of Zarkon's officers paying her a visit, but she refused to back down.

She was so caught up in her act of stubborn rebellion, that it took her a moment to realize there was something different about the Galra soldier in front of her.

He was smaller than the others. Most of the Galra she'd met towered over her, making her feel like an insignificant child. He was still taller than her, but only in the same way that _everyone_ was taller than her. And his eyes... she had started to grow used to the solid yellow-orange that all of the others sported, but his were different. He had violet irises set against the yellow. And they were focused on her face. Or, more specifically, on the light purple markings decorating her cheeks.

“So you're the Altean,” he remarked.

Pidge bristled and resorted to her usual defense: sarcasm. “No, clearly I'm Arusia. Maybe you should get your vision checked.”

The Galra didn't react to her statement. He just stood there, studying her.

“What do you want?” Pidge snapped. Her limited patience had already worn thin.

“I need you to trust me.”

Whatever Pidge had been expecting, it wasn't that. She gaped at him. _“Excuse me?”_

He glanced over his shoulder, one furry ear twitching as he listened out for something down the hall. Then he looked back at her and repeated his words a little more slowly. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

What the _quiznak_ was happening? Was he serious? He was Galra – the enemy – and he was asking her to trust him? It had to be a trap. _Obviously_ it was a trap.

Still, there was some part of her whispering that he could be trusted. It went against everything her mind told her. It was entirely illogical.

“I can do that,” Pidge told him.

He raised an eyebrow in clear disbelief. “I know you're lying, but I appreciate the attempt. Follow me,” he said as he turned and walked out of her cell.

Pidge followed him, fully prepared for an ambush waiting on the other side. When she stepped through to find it was still just the two of them, she released a breath of air she didn't know she'd been holding.

The Galra chuckled in dry amusement.

Her face burned with embarrassment as she continued following him. She _had_ to be smarter than that. If his plan was to betray her, he'd wait until her guard was down – or, until he _thought_ her guard was down. Pidge just had to stay alert and ready to react to whatever he might throw her way.

They walked for what felt like hours, through halls that all looked exactly the same to her. A few times, he had her duck out of sight of passing sentries. Pidge didn't think much of it until the fourth time he hid alongside her and was forced to press close so they would both be hidden in the shallow alcove.

“Damn. Didn't think there would be so many,” he muttered to himself.

The whisper of doubt about him having bad intentions returned, a little stronger than before. Her friends would have referred to it as “gut instinct” and she knew it was something they relied on more frequently than she liked. Pidge preferred listening to the more logical, (and reasonably) paranoid part of her mind, which refused to trust any strangers, but especially an unfamiliar Galra soldier.

His hand found hers as he tugged her back into the hall and set off at a near sprint around the corner, where they soon had to take cover once more.

He cursed again, that time in the language that never failed to strike a chord of fear in her heart. Pidge reflexively flinched away from him, ripping her hand from his grasp.

The Galra looked down at her, at first to see what she was doing, but then a look of unmistakable concern appeared on his face. “Are you okay?” he quietly asked.

Pidge shakily nodded, not trusting herself to keep her volume in check.

He eyed her for a moment longer and then leaned forward to get a quick look at the hall. He pulled back with a frustrated sigh. With a fluid motion, he unsheathed the dagger strapped to his belt. “There are more sentries than I expected. I didn't want to fight our way out of here, but I may have to. Just stick close and I'll keep you safe, okay?”

In any other circumstance, Pidge would have been furious by the insinuation that she couldn't protect herself, but in that moment, she found herself rendered speechless at the sight of the blade in his hands.

The glowing violet of the insignia on the hilt gave away his true affiliation.

Pidge reached out and grabbed his arm, her eyes wide. “You're with the Blade?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah? Wait, you didn't know? And you still trusted me? How st-”

A sudden shot against the archway of their hiding spot had the Galra cutting himself off mid-sentence to instead growl darkly in frustration. “Stay here!” he ordered, yanking his arm from her grip and charging into the hall.

Pidge stamped down the impulse to follow him anyway. She'd only be a liability in the middle of a fight, especially without any kind of weapon to use. What she wouldn't give to have her bayard with her.

She closed her eyes and focuses, wondering if she could somehow summon it to her hand, despite the massive distance between them. All she felt was the heartbreaking ache of separation between herself and her team.

“Hey.”

Pidge shrieked as the Galra suddenly appeared in front of her again. He glared at her for the high-pitched sound, his ears flicking back in agitation, and she quickly apologized.

“We have to go. More guards will be on their way soon,” he informed her. “Follow me.”

Pidge found herself struggling to keep up with him as he quickly led the way toward what she really hoped was the ship's hangar. By the way he kept shooting looked at her over his shoulder, he was equally as annoyed by her inability to keep up.

Around them, alarms began to screech.

The doors noisily slid open behind them and Pidge wished desperately that she had any kind of weapon in her hand. She didn't need to hear her rescuer's demand for her to run, she was already moving, her survival instinct kicking into high gear. She sped past him, but didn't have time to notice the surprised expression on his face even as he matched her speed.

Shots rang out, clipping at their heels and the wall around them.

“Hangar's the to the left!” he shouted as they neared the end of the hall.

There was no time to slow down.

Pidge slid as she tried to round the corner as quickly as possible, nearly smashing her right shoulder into the wall in the process. Her right hand tingled as they neared the hangar doors.

The _closed_ hangar doors.

Which could only be opened by a Galra.

_Quiznak._

Her companion realized the problem at the same time she did. They didn't have time to get the door open before the guards and sentries reached them. He couldn't go try and hold them off either, because Pidge couldn't access the doors on her own. And without a weapon, she couldn't try and hold them back for him either.

Unless...

Pidge looked down at her empty hand and concentrated. She knew the _feeling_ of calling her bayard, if she could only reach it...

A pulse of green light and the weight of her small weapon in her hand had Pidge grinning triumphantly. She met the Galra's surprised violet eyes and issued her first command to him. “Get that door open! I'll handle them!”

Then she was sprinting forward to take out the first wave of sentries as they marched around the corner. Before they could begin to take aim, she lifted her bayard and shot it at the legs of one in the back so she could yank it forward and knock down all of the sentries in front of it. With some glee, she unleashed an electrical shock through the cable, rendering the robots immobile.

Without wasting time, she recalled her weapon and prepared for the next group, which was as easily taken out as the first.

“Altean!”

Pidge looked back to find he'd gotten the door open. She retracted her bayard and turned to run just as a pair of guards began to climb over the unmoving forms of the robotic sentries. One of them fell with a shout of alarm.

She darted past her Galra rescuer and took refuge in the hangar. He followed seconds later and effortlessly closed the door in the guards faces before smashing a fist into the console, effectively locking the door. The only way anyone was getting in, was through force.

“What the _hell_ was that?” he demanded, rounding on her the moment it was clear they were face. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“Hey, I got us in here without getting shot at! The least you could do is thank me!” Pidge snapped right back.

“I'm supposed to be rescuing you, not putting you in more danger!” He responded hotly. “Where did you get that thing anyway? It doesn't look like Galra tech.”

“It's not. It's Altean,” she replied shortly. She crossed her arms over her chest, but kept a firm grasp of her bayard, not quite willing to let it go. She wasn't sure if it was just a fluke that she'd been able to call it the first time and she wasn't willing to risk not being able to do it a second.

Panicked shouting erupted on the other side of the door. The broken console sparked ominously and the door itself groaned, as if in protest of something.

Both of them turned to it in alarm.

That was all the warning they got before a blast shook the hangar.

Pidge screamed as she felt her feet lift off of the floor and she began flying backwards through the air. She flailed, trying to right herself enough to see what was happening, and caught sight of her unnamed companion as he went soaring in the air next to her.

The blast hadn't come from the door, which remained firmly shut. It came from _outside the ship._

Pidge reached out and tightly grabbed the Galra by the arm before aiming her bayard at a stable-looking pole near one of the walls. She only had one shot at keeping them from being sucked out into space.

The blade of her weapon wrapped neatly around the pole, circling around to catch on the glowing green cable. The pair jerked to a stop, suspending in the air.

“We have to get to a ship!” he shouted at her.

Pidge bit back a sarcastic reply, instead taking a moment to look around the hangar. There was only one ship close enough that they stood a chance of reaching.

Movement at the gaping hole in the hull had her forming a new plan on the spot. She turned her head to her new friend, meeting his violet eyes with her steady amber ones. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

His expression was puzzled, but he nodded in agreement.

Pidge let go and they were both sucked out into the void of space.

But only for a second.

They landed, _hard_ , on cool metal. Pidge felt warm arms wrap around her middle right before impact, which took away some of the roughness of her landing. As they caught their breath, darkness briefly closed around them and they felt the ship they were in shift as it began to move.

Blue light soon lit up around them as a new door slid open and a figure in white-and-blue armor stepped through. He raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle at the sight of them.

“Whoa, Pigeon, you sure move fast! Though, I have to admit, I never would have expected your tastes to run purple and furry. Guess that explains all the time's you turned me down, huh?”

Pidge could recognize the teasing in his voice even on her most oblivious days, but she was too relieved to see her friend to take the bait he was so enticingly dangling in front of her. “Lance!” she choked out, her voice giving way to a happy sob.

Lance smiled softly. “Hey, there. Happy reunion later, alright? Wanna join me up front so I can pilot Blue back to the Castle? I've got Shiro and Hunk screaming at me to get my ass in gear.” He tapped the side of his helmet, indicating the comm system. And then his gaze fell on the disgruntled Galra next to Pidge and he let out a sigh. “Keith can come too, I guess.”

“Keith?” Pidge repeated, taken aback by the very human sounding name. She looked to the Galra next to her, who was carefully avoiding her gaze. “What kind of name is that?”

“What kind of name is _Pidge_?” he asked in response.

“A nickname,” she said defensively. “My _name_ is Katie.”

Lance looked between them for a moment longer and then threw up his hands in disbelief. “Yup. I'm so not listening to this lovers' spat. _I'm not talking to you, Hunk!”_

“That's an Earth name,” Keith noted with some confusion. “But they said you're Altean. And your markings...”

Pidge reached up to brush her fingertips against the pale purple crescent decorating her right cheek. “I'm not even half. Someone in my family was, once, and that bloodline got passed down to me. The only reason I look like this is because of my exposure to Altean tech and magic over the past three years. I grew up on Earth. Same as you, I'm guessing.”

“For a while,” Keith reluctantly explained. “One of the Blade found me on Earth when I was eight. He brought me back with him and I've been training ever since.”

Silence stretched between them. It was more awkward than uncomfortable. Pidge was dying to pry more into his life. After all, it wasn't often that she met someone who was part alien like she was. (Actually, she'd _never_ met anyone else like her. Shiro and his prosthetic arm did _not_ count, even if it was alien technology.)

Before she had a chance to try and ask more, the ship jostled to the side, throwing Pidge over on top of Keith as they slid into the wall.

“Sorry!” Lance's voice reached them, slightly muffled. “I've just got to – Hunk! They're on your tail!”

Keith groaned and rubbed his head. “I see his piloting skills are as bad as his pick-up lines.”

Pidge grinned at the comment. “Believe it or not, he used to be worse.”

“Are which one? The piloting or the cheesy lines?”

Pidge outright laughed as she crawled off of him and stood up. “Both, if I'm being honest. Dating Hunk has mellowed him out a bit.” She held out a hand to hep him up and was pleased when he actually accepted it. “We should get up there before he starts doing barrel rolls.”

Keith winced at the thought of it. “That sounds unpleasant.”

“Oh, it is,” Pidge assured him, walking over to the door. She pressed a panel on the side, which lit up blue before the door slid open.

“Hey, lovebirds, you're just in time!” Lance called back to them. “Hold onto something and prepare to have your minds blown by the greatest piloting the universe has ever seen!”

Pidge groaned and grabbed the back of Lance's seat, planting her feet firmly on the floor. Keith quickly copied her motions.

“Remind me to tell Shiro he needs to have a talk with him about this. Again,” she muttered to her fellow half-alien.

“Will do.”

“Seriously? I'm not _that_ bad,” Lance said, a little wounded.

Pidge exchanged a smile with Keith and then braced herself for whatever came next.

 


End file.
